


Hours

by redhoneyplease



Category: Black Mirror: Bandersnatch
Genre: Minific, my first fic lol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-11
Updated: 2019-02-11
Packaged: 2019-10-26 06:01:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17740322
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redhoneyplease/pseuds/redhoneyplease
Summary: “It had been 24 hours since those words had been spoken.”A minific relating around Haynes’s reaction and experiences after the events of the TOY ending.This was my first fic, so if it’s not as spiffy as my others, that’s why.





	Hours

“He’s dead.”  
….  
 _It had been 4 hours since those words had been spoken._  
She was alright, strangely enough. Confused none the less, but still alright.  
It had been 24 hours since those words had been spoken.  
Dr. Haynes had returned to the practice.  
She was told to stay home; but she came anyway. In a poor attempt at convincing herself that she was okay.  
“I’m going to up your dosage a tiny bit..”  
The psychiatrist spoke to the woman she had just had a session with. She made it! She was going to be alright.  
“Remember, anytime you need me, just….”  
She gulped. Hard. Her mind had gone blank.  
“…pick up the phone,”  
She stammered, her throat seeming to close up in pain. It hurt. It hurt.  
It hurt.  
She managed to throw on a fake smile and mumble the final words she ended her sessions with,  
“You… you know the number.”  
And with that,  
She felt herself begin to weep.  
The client opened her mouth to say something, but remained silent.  
 _It had been 48 hours since those words had been spoken._  
As far as Dr. Haynes was concerned, time was at a standstill.  
She couldn’t seem to recall how long she’d been slumped in the chair; the one she watched her client die in.  
Thinking. That’s all she’s been doing.  
She knew this was out of place for her; she studied for however-many years to become a proper psychiatrist and this Is what she ends up with? nothing but a trenchant sense of guilt and confusion.  
The once limpid office she knew all too well was now poisoned; cursed. Something was wrong. Everything was wrong. She was wrong.  
She hadn’t bothered to touch the newspaper. Her career was already demolished, she doesn’t need the exaggeration of the media to know that.  
A knock at her door seemed to glide her out of the trance she was in.  
“Dr. Haynes? You’re still in? You were allowed to take a break for a day, why are you here? Your clients for today were rescheduled,”  
The voice spoke, but a little too strident for the amount of guilt lingering in the air.  
The psychiatrist adjusted her posture in the chair, and gave a weak reply.  
“I’m aware. Thank you.”  
She forced a weak smile.  
The door clicked closed, and she was once again alone.  
She should probably leave.  
Haynes rushed out into the lobby, forgetting to remove the ‘in session’ sign on her door, even forgetting to lock it.  
She felt awful. That was the one thing she knew for certain.  
 _It had been 96 hours since those words had been spoken._  
She hadn’t checked the newspaper yet.  
She needed to check the newspaper.  
She needed to do so.  
She had taken the day off,  
 _It had been a week since those words had been spoken._  
“My god,”  
Through thick sobs, Stefan’s father was in the opposite chair to Dr. Haynes. She told herself she was going to be alright. No crying in front of the clients.  
“How are you dealing with this? Have you had your own therapy session? Do you counsel yourself? I have barely eaten. Slept. Done anything, really..”  
“Therapists grieve _alone,_ Mr. Butler..”  
Her voice cracked slightly when she spoke, but she still maintained a close-lipped grin when she could.  
….  
 _If only there was a way that she could try again._


End file.
